


There Was a Life Before Night Vale

by NightValeMushroomFarmer



Series: Carlos' Backstory [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightValeMushroomFarmer/pseuds/NightValeMushroomFarmer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos was dedicated to his work long before he came to Night Vale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Was a Life Before Night Vale

Carlos was directing a lab safety lecture for his professor. A painful duty for a socially inept teacher's assistant. At least they were in his favorite lab in the sub-basement of the university. Mobile phones didn't work down there and with the advent of texting, Carlos couldn't be happier. But it was September 11th, 2001. Carlos missed the last call from his roommate Megan. She left her parent's phone number and a message of love for them. She apologized to Carlos for not being able to make the rent, forced a little giggle, and the call ended. Carlos packed Megan's things and personally returned them to her parents. Along with her message. They had never met before, but were forever joined by loss. 

It was barely November before Carlos' professor called him into his office for a meeting with a man in a dark, sharp suit. The professor spoke of Carlos' skills in the lab. How if you wanted to find something, Carlos could do it. That Carlos was the most through, most precise, most dedicated scientist he'd ever met. The only questions the man in the dark suit asked were technical and very easy for Carlos to answer. Carlos was offered a job with a vague but menacing government agency. He was told that he would find who did this to us and be a hero. Who could resist being a hero? Within days, Carlos was on a plane to the Middle East with just the clothes on his back. His passport was never stamped.   
The lab was so desolate. Carlos lost track at one point. Was it Yemen, Afghanistan? He was instructed to keep his head down and keep moving a lot. Once he was in the lab, he was at home. The reverse airflow was a blessing. LED lighting, computers, osmosis water system. Carlos would have squealed like a child, if he wasn't constantly shadowed by a "security" guard. Libby was also a scientist. Just one that carried a big ass gun. And another one on her hip. Carlos was not quite ready for the gun thing. 

Work was easy. Samples showed up. Carlos was given a list of compounds to find and he went to work. Libby assisted. Setting up equipment that Carlos needed. Chemicals labeled and with in reach. Very soon, they were working like a well oiled machine. It was easy. It was constant. Carlos' life was heavily scheduled. Which he loved. 

Libby was well trained. She learned what kept Carlos motivated, which was basically just science. But in order to put in long hours of testing, Carlos needed food, rest, and exercise. Her job, beyond just protecting Carlos from the "elements", was to keep Carlos working. Other than the twice weekly meetings with men in camouflage, Libby and Carlos were on their own. Well, besides the cameras. 

Without windows, Carlos lost track of time. He understood why the lab had no windows. All he wanted to do was find the compounds, then beat Libby at the quarter mile on the treadmill. It was just over a year before he realized. There was a problem. They had to leave. Libby provided Carlos with clothing more familiar to their location and she was wearing a hijab. Carlos though that she looked a little chunky. 

Outside of the compound was an old toyota pick up truck. Libby told Carlos to get behind the wheel. Once in the cab, she instructed Carlos to adjust all the mirrors so that she had a better view. Carlos had objected, but she told him that he was just driving, she was making sure they would get out of there. 

It was cold. The only heat the old toyota provided was from it's engine. Libby instructed Carlos through town. Her eyes darted from mirror to mirror, she was tense. It took so long to get out of town. Once on the "highway", she eased up. It was more of a well used dirt road. Libby told Carlos that the lab was being destroyed. There was no why, just go.

Libby pulled a satellite phone from her belly. She smiled at Carlos. Of course, if she looked pregnant, traveling with a man. No one would question them. A belly pouch was convenient. She dialed a number and with in a few moments was giving locations and stats. She was speaking so fast and in codes that Carlos did not understand. She agreed to something, hung up, and pushed it back into her belly.   
"We're going about 100 miles on this road", and then she pulled out a newly developed ipod and started some 80's rock, it would be a long ride. 

Three hours in they came to a impromptu road block constructed of a couple of cars. Libby handed Carlos some documents. Various IDs and a well worn, decorated card. "Ok, you're just going to hand these to those men and look at me. You are not to say anything. That card says your deaf. Do not look at them. Just look at me and we'll be fine. No smiling." Carlos' perfect smile would be a sure give away. She slid a hand gun behind Carlos' back making sure he realized it was there. The bigger rifle sat between them.

Carlos handed the men the documents and looked at Libby. She spoke quickly, high pitched, and used her hands. First holding them up in a gesture of peace, then on her fake belly to show she was with child. The men pushed the documents back at Carlos and Libby nudged him to turn and grab them. She then pointed forward to drive and nodded. Thankfully, Carlos got the gist of it and drove on. A smile crossed Carlos' lips and there was a flash of white. 

They were 30, 40 feet away, when the cars started to follow them. Libby took the satellite phone and said, "We've been compromised! Carlos, what the milage?"  
Carlos looked at the dial, 593,742. "Ok, we're 8 miles out. We're going to need back up! Carlos I need you to drive as fast as this thing can go." It didn't seem to matter, the men were on them. "Damn it. This is not good." The first car speed past them, aiming to cut them off, and miracles of miracles, hit an IED. It flipped in the air and Carlos drove right into the ditch that was left behind.

There was yelling, smoke, and ringing in their ears. There was blood. A lot of blood. Carlos had a nasty gash on his head, but Libby was seriously hurt. "I need your belt." Carlos looked over and swearing, he saw the blood coming from where Libby's leg should be. The truck's door was crushed in. There was a lot of metal. Carlos fished his belt off and tried to help Libby. "It's ok, worse than it looks" She was at work before Carlos could really focus. Libby took a deep breath, looked at Carlos and pulled the belt very, very tight around her thigh right above the knee. It wasn't a smile on her face, it was something much more sinister.

Libby looked around, Carlos was still just staring. His mind was quickly falling away. "Ok, we have to get out of here. I need you to look out, carefully and tell me what you see" Libby asked.

There was a man. He was holding a rifle aimed at Carlos. He was just outside of the broken truck window. He was yelling at Carlos in a language he didn't understand. Carlos took the hand gun from his back and shot. The man fell away.

Carlos pushed his door opened and pulled Libby out. "Was it four or five?" Libby asked, she thought there were four men but may of missed one. Two were in the first car, dead. One dead on the ground in front of them. Was there one or two left? Carlos dragged Libby away. In the same direction they were driving, but he didn't know where. He just had to keep moving, keep his head down. That's when there was a shot and pain in Carlos' right shoulder. He yelped and collapsed with Libby. 

Libby had the hand gun now. Carlos didn't know when she got it or how. But she was on her back and partly sitting, firing. It was not a man. A boy of 13, 14 years old. He shot Carlos and Libby shot him. 

Carlos' forehead was pressed against the dirt. His eyes were blurred with tears. He could hear his heart beat in his ears. There was great pain. He could smell blood. "God, come on Carlos, get up. We gotta go. Fuck, Come On!" Libby dragged herself to Carlos, grabbing his leg. "Get The Fuck Up!" Carlos pulled himself into a ball. His head really hurt. Libby punched him in the calf, "Get The Fuck Up!!!" Carlos looked back at Libby. "I need you to help me move." Ok, Ok, his head was focusing on what Libby needed. Carlos pulled himself up, grabbed, dragging Libby with his left arm off the road and down the embankment. There was nothing nice what he did, but there was no choice in the matter. 

There was a rock. A boulder. They hid behind it. There was no more yelling. Maybe there were four. "Let me look at you." Libby reached over to Carlos' shoulder, "No, it's fine, your fucking leg is mangled!" Carlos' glasses were missing. Her leg looked like ground beef. There was blood in his eyes. Dirt matted in his hair. He was shaking. Terrified. "Oh, this is nothing." Libby said smiling.

The helicopters were heard before they were seen. Shots were fired. It was five. More yelling, but this time Carlos recognized few words. Hands were on Carlos and he was pulled away from the ground, from Libby. That's when the best possible thing for Carlos to do happened. He lost consciousness. 

The room was bright. There was noise. Not bad noise. Just hustle and bustle. Like he was somewhere busy filled with beeps. Somewhere Modern. Carlos looked for his for his glasses and spotted there fuzzy recognition. He tried to move his right arm and was met with pain. Wow, his brain tried to process this pain. Where was it from, exactly. He looked down. His right arm was in a sling. Ok, still there. That's good. Left arm. Fine. Good. Carlos wiggled his toes. Feet, good. Catheter. Oh, not good. 

A nurse came in. She said something cheery. Checked a machine by his bedside. "Would you like your glasses?" She had a foreign accent. Carlos nodded. His tongue was thick and dry in his throat. He adjusted his glasses with his left hand. A few hours later a doctor came in and explained to Carlos how lucky he was. The bullet went right through shoulder. Mostly just muscle and flesh. The doctor left. It took Carlos another couple of hours to call for the nurse and ask about Libby. She said she had no information. Carlos asked the doctor, again nothing. 

It was two days before the man in the dark sharp suit came in. He thanked Carlos for his service and gently reminded him that he still had another 11 months left on his contract. Carlos objected saying that his lab was destroyed and that he lost his assistant. To which, the man in the dark sharp suit replied, "What, did you think we only had one?" He invited Thomas in, introducing him to Carlos as Carlos' new assistant. 

Libby, was fine. And that was all that Carlos could know. 

Carlos was delivered to a new lab. Thomas took over his schedule. In addition to all the tasks Libby handled, Thomas also made sure Carlos received physical therapy for his shoulder, civilian combat training, and he was a trained PTSD therapist. Carlos flourished under Thomas, and the 11 months passed with out incident. When the man in the dark, shiny suit showed up, Carlos signed a second contract for two more years. Libby popped into his head every now and again, but he understood. She had a job to do, just as he did. They were going to be heroes.


End file.
